If This Is The Last Thing I Write

If this is the last thing I write because I’ve lost my sense of humor or tossed away my confidence. Or because I’ve become lazy or selfishly spend my time on personal pursuits, then come find me because I’m distracted by the world and I need a kick in the rear. Give me the ol’ “fan into flame” speech (2 Tim 1:6,7).

If this is the last thing I write, I hope it’s not because arthritis or some other ailment has captured and chained my hands so that a pen no longer fits between my fingers. Or because I can no longer put my thoughts together understandably. But if my life takes that path, or if I’m here on earth so long that I outlive my ability: know that deep down, I trust God’s wisdom and the pen-less days only encourage me to dig deeper into His love for me and that I hope the same for you. That any day you live beyond the abilities you love will plunge you deeper into His arms.

If this is the last thing I write and the next pen-to-paper with my name on it is my obituary, I hope you’ll know that I found joy in my life. Not because it was happy and carefree, though many times it was. Not because I got to see the world, though I did. Not because I was good or great or did anything of significance that will last beyond the last thunk of dirt falling on my grave. I found joy in my life because each day I lived was decided in a book penned ages before May 21, 1971. I have no need for earthly days beyond those written for me (Psalm 139:16).

If this is the last thing I write because I’ve disappeared into the hands of an evil world that is dead set on chaining the freedom of life in Christ, know that I rejoice to be counted worthy of suffering for Him and that I am honored and that I can’t wait to worship our King with you on the other side. And if your life brings you to a precipice where you must choose Jesus or any other god or thing or situation, I plead with you to choose Jesus…every time.

If this is the last thing I write, I’d want it to point to Jesus and I’d want you to take it with all seriousness. I’d want it to prod you onward to a life of fellowship with and obedience to God. I’d want the words to be clever and memorable. (But that’s just because I like to write, so I sure would want it to be well done.) But more than that, I’d want the words to propel you toward the One who can truly say “Well done” to you when your race is complete.

I’d want it to point to Jesus, if it’s the last thing I write.